Roar, my Dear Detective
by Warfang
Summary: Leon and D deal with the repercussions from a new recruit's old life.


I do not own PetShop of Horrors. The author is Matsuri Akino.

WARNING- This is darker than I usually write.

The sun beat down on a hot day, a baker repeatedly kneading the bread before satisfied to place the bread in the oven. She stepped across the plains towards the glint of the scope, heading toward the poachers, a few knife stabs, and she could report that the supposed tourists had broken in and planned to kill the precious pride that resided there. After, of course, they lined up the few rhinos that were southern of the pride. She ran, bent double, before stopping to scent the wind change. She approached stealthily from the side, intending to count the number of people before she pounced. She was aware of the off-chance of tourists.

The blade flashed down, severing the carotid artery. She leaped over the dying scout, landing by the rifle held by the sniper. Kicking the rifle out of his hands, she went with the forward momentum and swung down, meaning to slam the knife into his neck. He rolled and scrambled far enough to render the initial swipe useless. He began to yell for the third member of the party, a big, lumbering man who she bet could sprint, unloading supplies at the jeep. He grabbed a definitely illegal Uzi and pointed the weapon at her. She jumped and kicked the downed man to shatter his leg, or just convince him to not move. Then she tucked and rolled in the grass cursing the muffled whumps and thuds of the bullets into the grass.

Lay low, lay low, she chanted. Inside her head, she ran a checklist of all that she had. The knife, a hand carved bone with jagged, sharpened metal, her clothes, pants, a shirt, jacket, and hiking shoes with socks. She really had little else to save herself. The downed man had a grizzled beard and was definitely European, his skin tanned, and apparently he was out to keep his tanned skin. He yelled at Huge and Stupid, then the jeep doors slammed.

Huh. Maybe they thought she was dead. But everyone knew a wounded animal cried out. She circled back as the jeep left, noting markers on the jeep. Then she hauled the dead scout back to camp.

Camp was in an uproar. Apparently, she had upset a powerful, illegal, poacher. "This will never do. You must leave. He will descend upon us here and leave all the animals dead where he sees them. Run like a rabbit, and take his curse with you."

"Save the animals." She grunted, and swiping brunette locks with honey dripped from the sun out of her face, she left the camp.

Several plane hops later, she landed in America, home of the free and land of the brave. America to her was a place of home, where all animals ran back to defend themselves. With a sigh, she gave the FBI agent a verbal message to relay to her parents, and headed for the next coast over. Her name had been changed to Lizzy Smith. Her hair cropped short to eliminate the proof of long hours spent under an African sun. They applied creams to soothe roughened and chapped hands. The knife she had left at the camp, a souvenir or memento or ceremonial dagger to the natives who had sheltered her. Laws of intercontinental flights forbade the bringing of foreign objects that contained animal skin to stop epidemics of whatever the new animal might give them. The plane stopped at Los Angeles, where she enjoyed a few hours of smokers cough from the smoke of the city after years of dust and animals and plants.

She settled in an air conditioned apartment. Disgusted, she made sure to cut out the electricity to lights and bought some candles instead. She would tint the windows later.

Leon looked up from the desk to see a new girl with slight stature staring at him.

"You the new partner?"

She nodded.

"Welcome to L.A. We may be homicidal detectives, but we get the job done."

She grinned. "Leon, I am Lizzy. It is an honor to meet you. I will defer to your experience and one day surpass you."

Leon nearly fell out of his chair. "Holy shit, you talk just like him!"

"Who?"

"Count D! Are you related?"  
"No."

"Blow me down. Have you had a tour of the station yet?"

"No."

"Then let's go. Inside the building, the usual hot spots outside, and then I'll take you to a suspect I've been trying to jail for the past year."

She nodded, and fell in step behind him, headed down the corridor.

They stopped at a bakery, where Leon proceeded to fill up a box with precision, and had the money in hand before the clerk even rang up the total. Lizzy prodded him for an explanation. Leon's physique and his smoking habit who had clearly gone straight off sugar did not fit a man buying a box of confectionaries. She doubted he could even stand Coke, and was gratified to see him chug water like a beer.

He explained on the way into Chinatown that Count D ran his grandfather's pet shop, and that the shop was the link between several bizarre murders.

"But so far, nothing sticks to him. No matter what I do, we end up drinking tea and discussing the latest sports development or the cases I can talk about. Otherwise, I bet we would yap all the time about animals!"

"And what is wrong with animals?" The neutral tone immediately pinged on Leon's radar, but a cop of his pedigree did not let slip that they had hit a sore spot and knew it.

"Absolutely nothing is wrong with animals! But my first case after meeting D was man-eating rabbits! Give me a dog any time of day!"

"You don't have a dog?" She didn't even blink at the man-eating bunnies.

"I can't handle a dog unless I go into the canine division. My work would keep me away and that would be just plain cruel. I'm not putting an animal through that."

They descended the stairs towards the ornate doors.

"Perhaps I should get a dog. I have not been feeling safe for a long time."

"Hah! Then I say you've come to the right place. Like I said, the owner is the main suspect in a series of murders. All of them solved. But not to my satisfaction, because while I agree with the decision, my gut instinct says I'm dealing with a guilty man."

They entered the shop. She stopped to inhale the incense, a sweet scent, and began to process the smell of domesticated animals. A few scents nearly swept her back to the safari. Leon sauntered right on in, plopping down on the couch, hollering "Yo D, you in here?"

"Quiet, my dear detective, you'll bother the animals."

"I brought you something." Leon slid the goods onto the table. Lizzy looked around, and spotting a cat, squealed loudly and scooped him up.

"OOOH a kitty-cat! I haven't seen one of you in years! Such soft fur!" Clutching the alarmed animal, she cooed until the cat settled in. The bonus of having real nails that grew out to an inch before breaking- cats and most dogs love getting a scratch.

Count D blinked. Leon snorted. "Guess that makes you a preferred cat lover."

Lizzy nodded. "But for all practicality, I should get a dog for protection. Once I've moved in, then I'll see about an indoor cat. The apartment's big enough, the cat would have plenty of space, and a play mate."

Count D swished over to her. "What do you wish for?"

She grinned. "I wish to inspect your pets." Leon resisted flashing the badge at D. "You see, I've made a powerful someone very angry. I need the dog to have the sense to run away from a gun in a zig-zag line, or smart enough to learn that. He always needs to maim and destroy, but not kill. I won't have a dog put down for saving me."

"Hmmmm. Come on back, and let's see what I have."

"Shouldn't you serve tea first? Leon might get snoopy if he isn't preoccupied."

"Hey! I do not snoop! I investigate!" Leon's outburst was correctly interpreted by Count D, who pushed Leon back into the couch, and poured him tea, then swept out into the back of the shop with Lizzy.

Of course, no one had ever told Leon that a kami's hearing is exceptionally sharp, when he heard Leon mutter, "Guess that rumor about killing poachers was real."

Lizzy failed to find a dog that met her expectations. But she made sure to visit with Leon from time to time, steadfastly working and getting along with Jill.

The few times she visited Count D during the next two months had a curious effect on their discussions. A particularly heated one had her exclaiming that "High-speed rifles and scopes just aren't fair. You never see an animal's real beauty."

Leon's head snapped back. "You ever fight an animal bare-handed? I'd sooner run."

Count D's mouth quirked. "Going by the old 'fight or flight' instinct?"

Lizzy lapsed into silence as Leon and Count D started a bickering match over the tea. She interjected gracefully that while humans were clever with their hands, many animals had far more developed brains, and many humans were only now beginning to appreciate them, instead of stupidly wasting their lives.  
"Kill the animal to eat, for his skin, his teeth, and you do his death great honor, for you set him to your purpose. Kill an animal bare-handed or with your own crafted tools, and many cultures value you as an adult."

"But kill an animal for a kill, and your worse than them?" Leon suggested.

"Exactly." Count D and Lizzy chimed in the same tone.

"Jinx!" Lizzy yelled. "I'll take an éclair."

While she munched, Leon suddenly spoke up. "You know, the way you described humans doing honor to an animal, I just realized…all animals kill for what they need to eat, you just applied the principles."

Lizzy set the tea down. "Yet something else we humans do. Learn by observing."

"Huh." Leon turned back to his tea.

Lizzy had taken to walking the dogs for Count D. Sure, they had plenty of room in the Pet Shop, but nothing beat the great outdoors for exercise. She had arrived last summer, and now spring drew near.

A recent case involving drowned victims, even in land-locked areas, had ensured the detective would not be enjoying a bubble bath for a good long time.

"I mean, eergh! There are just some people who are put on meds for a reason!" Lizzy complained to a Doberman. The others were pedigrees with a few mixes, and even two mutts. Leon had brought in five mutts over the course of time that Lizzy had been here. These two were all that were left. D really had a lot of customers recently, and even Lizzy noticed that the pets were involved somehow. Of course, she also looked at the humans who had died, and decided that one detective on the case was fine enough. Besides, she also saw how no evidence could be linked back to D, and even when it was, he was protected by the disclaimer. Leon would have to prove that at least ninety-percent of the attacks were premeditated, which is hard to do, when anyone can walk into the pet shop and buy an animal the same day.

Lizzy snorted, and scratched the Lab on the shoulder, before pitching a tennis ball. D was not stupid enough to get caught. After another fifteen minutes, she whistled the dogs together and headed back. A three mile walk was going to wipe the dogs out.

Of course, Lizzy wasn't D when avoiding capture was an issue.

The black van with tinted windows pulled up behind her as she headed back to the Count's Pet Shop after the doggie park. She did notice that her instincts were going haywire, so she shifted all the dogs to one hand (all six) and reached for her knife.

Hey, old habits are hard to break. Plus, a public sidewalk with stores all around was not a place to discharge a Glock 9MM at any rate. She did have basic training, but had a notorious reputation for going for her gun last. The incident where she threw a suspect into a trash can was now suburban legend, especially when she told him that option b) put a bullet in his leg, was a valid option.

No one believed she could until she did just that a week later, stopping a suicidal witness. The L.A. S.W.A.T. was after her to join, or at least lecture, for the rest of the year. She caved in to giving lectures and demonstrations.

Now she wished she knew where the warning came from, as she eyed her surroundings and rooftops. The hands grabbed her and hauled her up, over the shoulder, causing her to release the dogs to stab the attacker. The knife went in easily enough, and she flung the blade out, splattering his blood for DNA everywhere. Even as she aimed for a second strike, someone yelled "Security!" as the door slammed shut on her. The van peeled away, as store security surrounded the scene and called for police. One fast thinking man swabbed blood and zip locked the sample in a bag.

The dogs were returned hours later by Leon to the Count, who had begun to fret when Lizzy was so very late, because she did have a report she had to go over with the trainees, to explain common mistakes later. There was no way she could be late.

So when Leon walked through the door with the dogs, Count D immediately rushed to him, demanding an explanation.  
"She was kidnapped." Leon's three words had D sitting down, the dogs crowding him. Leon turned around. "This may not be a homicide, but I'm still looking into her well being. I'll drop by her place and inform them that she might not be back for a while." Leon headed out.

The dogs whined before they all started babbling at once. "She was all uneasy, and then this van pulls up, a man, huge, he was, jumps out and grabs, and she drops our leashes, and stabs him, but by then she was in the van, and she splattered us with blood, we were going to help, and then the van was going away…"

Count D smiled at the dogs. "I'm sure Lizzy will be just fine. She does have a wild streak, and while Leon may believe me, he can't explain how dogs gave him a license plate when he doesn't speak dog to his superiors." D fed the dogs, attended three more customers, did one more round to check on the pets, and then headed to bed.

Two days later, even if D had told Leon, the information became irrelevant. The poachers hacked a satellite feed, and announced that in honor of a killed comrade, they would hunt the one responsible. "Of course, on a safari, there is more than one animal, so these lovely people have volunteered to be game as well."

Physically fit men and women appeared on the screen, each dressed as a safari animal. Lizzy herself was there, hands tied and mouth gagged. "This little beauty here is a gazelle, and is the highest prize. Why? Because she is why all this is happening. Now, the rules are, run until you are killed. We'll be after you in a few hours, and don't go getting help, or your pack will be killed. If you survive until the gazelle is poached, you and your pack go free."

For some reason they thought that televising the murder of humans was something they could get away with. The next twenty-four hours went like this:

The 'animals' all scattered to the four winds, hiding in unique and bizarre places. None of them accepted help, explaining that if the offer was accepted, someone other than those involved would be killed.

The L.A.P.D. secured the locations of those who were televising their progress. Once the hunt began, the L.A.P.D. and S.W.A.T. moved in, while the FBI worked on identifying people. No one could find the hostages though.

As the sun came up, two poachers were dead and one hyena would never cackle again. The dead men were identified and taken to the morgue.

The rumors the media gave out was that the male hyena took on the two attackers while the female ran, protecting her unborn child. The FBI then leaked that the dead 'hyena' was a married banker, and he and his family had disappeared while on vacation to California. The civilians did their part and mostly stayed home, phoning in when they saw an animal suit to help track the victims.

Finally, the U.S. Army showed up. The sheer firepower brought down the poachers, once the FBI determined that the poachers could not phone in to kill the hostages. And besides, they had to risk that the children and assorted family members would only be harmed if the poachers were shot at by the 'animals' themselves.

Someone had broken into the morgue and verified that the poachers were killed by hands only.

The morgue securities were still miffed about the break in.

Finally, all the poachers were locked up. All except one, as a teenager and his girlfriend were televised freeing the hostages before they announced "I am the b-best hunter on the safari. Those of you whose family I have released are free to go back to your lives. The gazelle must die." His girlfriend then dragged him after the released hostages, bobbing and weaving through the crates avoiding a direct shot. She even snagged a lid to shield them as she hustled down the dock, before a disguised voice called out "3…2…1…0!" She hurtled around the corner, her boyfriend crying out as he stumbled. The report of the sniper rifle sounded again, but the bullet buried itself in the lid she threw back over her boyfriend, before grabbing his arms and getting around the corner. The camera clicked off.

"Just one poacher left, and he isn't leaving any clues as to who he is!"

Chief of Police paced back and forth, watching Leon from the corner of his eye, before switching back to Jill. "Those teenagers found protective custody, but couldn't give us any more description than his height and estimated weight. They did however; tell us that for a mad man, he sure was calculating. 'Soon as you say the message, I'm going to start counting. When I reach zero, I'll open fire.' She mentioned he never said from when he would start counting, and she was too terrified to ask 'which number?'"

The Chief sighed and sank into his chair. "We are now thirty hours into this mess, and no one has seen Lizzy. Does anyone know if she had a favorite hiding spot, any place she could disappear to? I mean, he clearly means to hunt only her, and does not seem interested in shooting any random passersby unless she breaks a rule."

"Actually, Chief," Leon cleared his throat. "You are assuming that Lizzy will behave as an animal. I figure that she will take the poacher head-on in a fight were she can kill or be killed without endangering others. See if the FBI can find anyplace twenty-four hours mostly walking distance near the release warehouse where bullets and screaming wouldn't attract a nosy or curious outsider."

Chief stared at Leon for a moment. "I mean, the FBI are compiling a list and checking off who this guy could be by referencing people the captured criminals are known to hang out with. They are also checking recent airports for travel passes and the like. If they could do that, couldn't they find where Lizzy would make base and range from there?"

The Chief pondered for a few minutes, then picked up the phone and started dialing. "Okay, I'll see if they can get that list. But you and Jill have to check them out yourselves, our forces are spread thin just looking for this one man."

"Okay!" Jill and Leon commenced a stake out at the fax machine. They sprang into action once the papers where in. Jill and Leon split the work with a quick debate, effectively splitting Los Angeles in half and heading out.

Leon really wished he could squeal his tires, gun the engine, and have the siren wailing, but the poacher would know he was coming. Leon surreptitiously checked out thirty places as evening descended upon L.A. News anchors announced that the city's lock down should be resolved soon, and that betting pools on the outcome were in poor taste.

Midnight was rolling around, and places that had been closed all day were now armed and mostly in bed. Leon spared a call to Jill to see if she had anything. The negative response was replied with a "Well, at least we know where she isn't."

Jill commented that they should get some sleep, as they were rapidly approaching being unable to assist Lizzy in their current states. Leon protested, but Jill won out. They retired for the time, actually sleeping in their cars, guns at the ready, scanners beeping.

Leon wished he could charge his cell from his car battery, but then just turned the cell phone off.

He awoke to an insistent tapping at his window. Lizzy stood just outside, dust rolled onto her clothes and skin dyed orange from a tanning solution. Her hair was an electrifying pitch black, pulled into a braid.

"Detective Leon, what are you doing out here?"

"Hear the news lately? You're the last target. We just can't get a bead on this guy. Sounds to be the last one. No one working with him. A lone killer."

"Did the DNA match any of the captured poachers? Any of them Huge and Stupid, easily able to-"

"Nope. Damn." Leon gritted his teeth. "I'll call this in. It is possible that he has someone else. You got a last stand set up?"

Lizzy nodded.

"Get in."

She stared at Leon for a moment, before marching around the car to the passenger side.  
She stayed quiet while he made the call in, confirming that Lizzy had found him, and they were going to try and draw out the poacher and possible Henchman #1.

The Chief was against the idea, but Leon argued that the sooner the guy was caught, the safer everyone would be.

She directed Leon to a park, one away from residents. Or, at least, a fair distance from the residents. There was never really escaping the people here in the city.

"There's a copse of trees ahead. They're really good for weaving and avoiding bullets. There are a few bees and hornets nests, I'll point them out. The pond and lake are connected by a pipe. I suggest that as a last resort, you have to be able to swim straight quite a ways before even thinking about surfacing."

Leon cocked an eye at her. "You really have the area mapped out."

"This was a potential for dog walking before I found an actual dog park."

The way she stumbled over the grass was comical, before Leon realized she wasn't getting back up.

Blood seeped from her leg, as the resounding crack from the super-sonic rifle opened up the heavens down upon them. The rain was a blessing, Leon decided, as he hauled her back to the car. Heat seeking scopes weren't standard hunting equipment, and the rain could easily pin down the sniper. The rain was also so heavy as to muffle noise…

The car was closer than the copse, and the shot wouldn't line up with the car's tires at all. Leon peeled out of the parking lot, killed the lights, and shot off for Chinatown. Count D was closer, and taking care of all those animals, he had to have some bandages, right?

Lizzy created little noises, clutching her leg as Leon reached over at a red light to pull the glove compartment open and drag out a First Aid kit. The gauze wasn't much better, but the scissors pulled the pants off the wound, allowing access as Leon killed the engine and jumped out of the car. Neither one had bothered for seat belts. The streets were empty any way.

Leon pulled Lizzy out and carried her down the stairs into the shop. He kicked the doors and nearly fell over when the door opened for him. Count D led the way into the kitchen, setting Lizzy on the counter and the leg over the sink.

"Really, I treat animals, not humans."

"Think of a horse shot through the leg. At least the bullet isn't lodged. You just have to clean and bandage the wound. I'll risk a hospital later."

D nodded, barking at Leon to bring the boiling water. Once the blood was mostly off, Leon muttered "Big ass hole in your leg."

"No idea if the bullet is still in there after bouncing around. I'd say I've lost a third of my blood and am reaching the ten minute mark. Do you have any plastic?"

"That's for chest wounds." Leon reached out for the pads, and then D tightly wrapped them. "Can you leave out a back entrance and meet the Chief?"

"Leon, what-" D began.

"I'm calling to report what happened. Then I am going back to meet that poacher. In the mean time, Chief or Jill, will swing by and pick you up for the hospital."

Leon grinned. "I have a good idea where that shot came from, and if Jill goes with me, he may think he shot the wrong person."

He pulled out the cell phone and left the kitchen, muttering about shitty reception.

Lizzy wheezed. "Guess this is when the shock starts to settle in, or at least how surreal all this is."

D nodded, pulling Leon's jacket off of the chair where he had left the wet article to dry. Now dryer and toasty from the fire, D draped the jacket over Lizzy, before holding her hand in a firm grip. "Rest your feet on this dish."

Lizzy did as she was told, decreasing some blood the wound.

Leon appeared, and told them he was going out.

"Wait. Take this."

Lizzy handed over a knife she had picked up. "I know it's clunky and unrefined, but hey, a last resort. Throwing the knife."

Leon nodded, and headed out. Count D sent T-chan out with the detective, and the totetsu came back in when the Chief arrived. Jill had become hung up in a robbery, and was really pissed about having to deal with them on top of everything else.

Count D and Chief hauled Lizzy to the car, and then to the hospital, were she was soundly cursed out by the doctors once she was stable.

Her last conscious thoughts were if Leon was okay.

Leon was sneaking into a parking deck and checking the cars. The S.W.A.T. team was not far behind him, but there were about four minutes before they actually arrived.

Leon crept along, padding quietly, searching out the poacher. The parking deck was one of many choices, but a rough estimation, plus the accessibility of the place had Leon creeping through the parking deck. The rain danced around outside, occasionally splashing in. The thunder and flashes covered up any loud noises he made, aside from the constant drumming. Leon also knew that the sound covered up anyone else's noise as well. He cursed for not waiting on back-up, but if he nailed this guy….

Leon noticed that there was a shadow on the wall, tucked behind the corner. He dove for the car, and landed. He then crouched low, even breaths, as he saw two sets of feet round the corner after a count of ten.

One set was huge. The other was wearing boots. And what looked like a rifle butt trailed from the boots right side, the huge set of feet to the left.

_Great, I picked the side of the guy with the gun instead of Huge and Stupid._ Leon readied his handgun, an idea forming. If he dropped the big guy, then he could stand and take a shot at the other guy….forget the fact that the attack was unprovoked and meditated. He would wait for them to be closer, to have a better shot, and cut the time the poacher could run away over a longer distance, giving him more time for the shot.

The bullet sank nicely into the foot, as Leon could hear voices as they discussed how to hem in and trap Lizzy.

Leon made the shot. When he stood up, his gun was ready, aimed at the chest of the other guy. Two minutes before S.W.A.T. arrived, and the rifle that had nearly removed Lizzy's leg was now aimed at Leon.

"I bet that isn't even loaded."

Leon sent a smirk at the guy, conscious in these close quarters that he would have very little time to dodge a bullet.

Well, at least he had on a Kevlar jacket- meant to stop side arms, not rifles, and only protected his chest, not his face. Nothing for it, then. He needed to play decoy. Leon began to edge his way out, ignoring that the car could provide minimal cover. Huge was still lying down, unmoving, and Leon recognized that the man had swooned. Possibly from the sight of blood. Leon filed that fact away.

"And what do you hope to accomplish?"

The guy was definitely British. Leon edged more around. "To put you behind bars. The hunt endangered people who have never heard of you before, and also killed a good man."

Leon filed away how the man twitched at what he insinuated about the two dead poachers. Human life was valued, but Leon had priorities when it came to human life, and saving a wife and child trumped murdering poachers in his book.

"Oh? And what about their wives and children?"

"If they have any common sense, they'll tell them exactly what Daddy was, and pray they turn out somewhat decent. Bank tellers and dog walkers, perhaps."

The man sneered. Leon continued edging. He was now a minute and thirty seconds away from help…and then he remembered how many flights of stairs they would be coming up as well.

"Anyway, what did she do to piss you off? Tracking a guy like you is hard, you could've retired and no one would know."

"She murdered my son."

"Let me guess, he was poaching."

"A fine sport for a fine man."

"No love for animals, though. Can't trust a man who won't melt at kittens."

"He was allergic."

"So am I. Not by much. My hay fever can be worse on a good day."

"They have drugs for that."

"Tried 'em." Leon by now realized that they were both stalling, but for what….

A black van came around the corner behind Leon. He swore and dove. The van slowed down enough for the man to get in. In that time, Leon scrambled over the car he had landed behind, and then jumped in the space between the dividing pillars, landing just as the door slammed shut. He thanked God that adrenaline really did get the body moving. Swearing, he hung onto the rack supports as the van hurtled out of the garage-right over the fainted Huge.

Leon nearly was sick. Then they passed S.W.A.T. on the way in, and the sick in Leon's stomach made room for worry. He hauled himself over to the driver's side, pointed the gun at a downward angle and then fired a bullet in. The van jumped forward, careening down the road. The speed picked up….

A bullet came up through the roof, nicking Leon's jacket. Leon rolled so that he was on the actual rack itself. The door to the driver's side opened, and the driver leapt out, into the grass. Wondering what the hack was going on, Leon looked up…and remembered that the park had been along a road that led straight to the beach. The parking complex was sometimes used by tourists when the beach itself was full of cars in the parking lot. The set was this: Leon Orcot was on top of a van headed for the ocean. Of course, this side was known for the fishing. Leon estimated quite the drop into the ocean even as the slide door opened and the poacher jumped out. Leon readied himself.

If he jumped now, he could land in the grass, and possibly a few months in the hospital. Or he could wait for the car to slow down and then jump. This thought became nonexistent as Leon noticed a second acceleration. Leaning over, he hung his head down into the doorway, and spied the laptop rigged into the dash top and pedals.

He swore.

Leon stood up to jump, and then the van hit a speed bump. Leon fell, his foot catching in the railing. He was caught and doomed. Leon began to yank on his foot, attempting to get free. He leaned over, ripping at his shoelaces, tugging the shoe off, and again tried to pull his foot back. No such luck. His other leg was in the way of the knee bending enough so he could pull his leg out. The opposite rack dug into his back, slowing him from re-positioning to try again.

Leon breathed deeply. The sun would be up soon, and he wasn't bleeding too badly, plus there had been no shark sightings lately. They preferred to eat seals, right?

Leon glanced back. The S.W.A.T. team had tackled the escape men, and even from this distance, he could identify the poacher. Leon looked back at the dock. He would be on the dock in seconds.

"Hey!" He yelled. The S.W.A.T. member looked up, saw him, swore, and jumped into a van. They came after him. Leon got ready to shift again, and as soon as he lifted up, a plank broke, jarring him back down. Leon swore.

Then he was falling.

Count D attended the funeral of Homicide Detective Leon Orcot with a calm demeanor. The body had never been found, although residue blood on the rack and a shoe in the road suggested exactly what happened.

Jill and Lizzy had started dropping by sporadically as the months passed. Lizzy wound up with one of the mutts Leon had brought in, a good friend. She called him Shadow. Now, three months later, Detective Orcot was considered MIA and a funeral was prepared. A body had been found matching his description, and even when the body belonged to someone else, some hairs and fibers caught in the flesh did belong to Leon. They were just a few fragments from Leon's clothes, decomposed to the point where they all decided that Leon had died in the ocean.

He was eaten by sharks just like the singer, Evanjelin Blue.

Jill stopped coming by, even though she promised to see the Count from time to time. D knew he reminded them of Leon. Losing the detective…that had been a hard blow indeed. But if not for Leon, they would never have caught the poachers, having been concerned with the car wreck.

The funeral was nice, complete with glowing commendations. D headed back to the shop, offering the girls one last glass of tea to honor Leon before they went to Lizzy's flat and got completely drunk.

D remained in his black cheongsam, with a red dragon spiraling up the side. The dragon reminded him of Honlon, and of the dear detective.

After the girls had left, Count D changed the sign from 'Open' to 'Closed'. He headed into the back of his shop, where the incense was very thick. Through a door that locked on the outside. Into a darkened room. A figure lay sprawled out on the floor. Count D approached, murmuring to call the creature's attention. His nails sank into the golden mane, scratching along the thick fur. The lion purred, his eyelids sliding shut over the azure orbs…..

THE END


End file.
